


Five Stages of Grief

by weezlyismyking



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Not Exactly a Happily Ever After, Percy Weasley has PTSD, Post Wizarding War, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, angsty sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weezlyismyking/pseuds/weezlyismyking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I Exhaustion <br/>2 Guilt<br/>3 Emotional Outlet <br/>4 Reliving It<br/>5 Dependence</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Stages of Grief

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happened to Percy after the war, his relationship with Oliver, and things that happened during the war and the battle. Not a happy read. There is a section that briefly describes the violence of Fred's death. Skim past the end of II if you want to overlook that.

I

The first night after the war was easy. Tired from battle, emotion, and staying up all night made sleep come easy. Percy found himself in his old bed at The Burrow, still dirty and in tattered clothes, fast asleep in moments. He was in a deep, deep sleep for a while.

The nightmares came late, and he woke before the sun had risen, screaming. His face was wet with tears and he was breathing unevenly. It was Charlie who came in to check on him. He cried into Charlie’s shoulder, apologizing for waking him up, for leaving the family, for not writing, and for letting Fred die.

“Percy, you need to pull yourself together, alright? You’re going to worry Mum to death screaming like that in the middle of the night. It isn’t your fault what happened to Fred . . . Just. Go back to sleep.”

 

II

Fred’s funeral was the worst by far. There was no denying it had happened. Fred was dead. That wasn’t the problem for Percy. He had been present, seen Fred dead, and held onto his dead body. He and Ron had unfortunately both been there to see it. Percy could tell that the rest of the family was having a problem accepting it.

Percy had gone through the stages of grief backward. He accepted it as fact, but he was not able to cope with that. During the service, everyone was talking about Fred’s life and how it was cut short, but they were glad to have been a part of it. Percy felt guilty because he had missed a big part of it. He was overwhelmed with everything. He walked out in the middle, since he had no right to cry there.

Not long after he walked out, Oliver found him outside sobbing against the side of the church. Percy didn’t want to cry in front of Oliver either, so he straightened up and just held onto him for a few moments. He and Oliver came back inside, sat near the back, and Oliver let Percy hold tight onto his hand.

.

“A coward.”

Percy heard Ron call him that in the kitchen that evening, when no one knew that Percy was standing outside the kitchen door.

The words echoed in his ears as he sat in his room. He put a silencing charm around the room and wrecked it. He only came out when his mother knocked on the door and said that Oliver was there.

He tried to make it look like he hadn’t been thrashing around his room and sobbing, but it was hard to hide a puffy face. He made his way downstairs anyway and found Oliver in the kitchen talking with Charlie and Harry. Percy nodded, joining the conversation for a moment, but Charlie excused himself and Harry said he’d better go check on Ginny.

Percy led Oliver to the empty living room, embarrassed to take him upstairs to the wrecked room. There wasn’t a lot to say, but they spoke as casually as they could. It got late, but Percy didn’t want Oliver to leave and Oliver could tell. So even when it was silent, Oliver stayed.

It was the first night that Percy had slept since the night after the war. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw terrible things behind his eyelids. However, with his head in Oliver’s lap and Oliver’s fingers stroking his hair, it was easier not to think.

“It’s late, Oliver. Why don’t you – oh.”

Molly Weasley quieted herself and nodded. She gave Oliver an appreciative stroke on the cheek and covered Percy with a throw from the back of the couch.

It didn’t seem so bad until Percy woke Oliver up thrashing in his sleep. Oliver almost panicked, until he remembered where he was. He tried to shake Percy awake, but it wasn’t until Percy started yelling choked up sobs that he woke himself up. He was heaving in breaths as he sat up.

“Oliver.”

At the sound of his name, Oliver nodded. He reached up and cupped Percy’s cheek. “You’re okay. You’re safe now, alright?”

“He’s not.”

“Perce—“

“No, Oliver. You didn’t see it. You didn’t see the explosion, the blood everywhere, the broken limbs, the way that half his face was sunken in. It was cruel and ugly and it should have been me!” He broke into sobs, rocking into the couch cushion.

Wide-eyed and disturbed, Oliver wrapped his arms around Percy.

 

III

Oliver came to check on Percy over the following days. When he went back to stay at his flat, Oliver spent the night with him. They slept in the same bed, but never kissed or touched. Not until two weeks after the war.

“I’ve got to go to trial.” Percy told him.

“What?” Oliver asked, confused.

“I was working under the corrupt Ministry. I was Assistant to the Minister of Magic, Oliver.” Percy said.

“You just have to tell the truth. You weren’t doing it because you supported it. You were doing it because you had to and you were making sure that your family was safe.” Oliver said.

Percy nodded. Oliver was mostly right.

They went to sleep as they usually did, not touching or saying much. Percy woke them up with sobbing again. Oliver held Percy close to him, whispering things like ‘It’s over’, ‘I’ve got you’, ‘We’re safe’. Percy calmed down, hands curled into Oliver’s shirt still.

After he had calmed down, he moved to straddle Oliver’s hips and kissed him deeply, leaving Oliver with no choice but to respond. They moaned wildly into each other’s mouths, rolling their hips together and grasping at each other’s clothes to pull them off.  They were naked and panting heavily as Oliver scrambled for his wand.

“I learned this one new.” Oliver said before crawling between Percy’s legs. He pointed his wand at Percy’s opening and whispered an incantation. Percy gasped as it felt like something was massaging the inside of his asshole, stretching it and making it slick. He rolled back onto the phantom feeling, despite how odd it felt. Percy didn’t want to know where Oliver learned it.

Oliver lined himself up with Percy’s entrance and pressed slowly inside. He gripped Percy’s hips, trying to control himself as Percy clawed at his back and gasped with the pain of it. Oliver buried his face against Percy’s neck and moaned into it, hips rolling slowly until he filled Percy all the way.

“Please, just fuck me. Hard.” Percy begged. His voice was thick with emotion, and Oliver was trying not to notice that he thought Percy might be crying. He let out a loud grunt as he fucked hard into Percy. Over and over, his hands gripping so tight at Percy’s hips that he knew he would leave bruises.

By the time that they both reached their climax, they were both sobbing with something between pleasure and being overwhelmed with emotion.

 

VI

The night after the trial, Percy began to feel relieved. It was not pleasant, reliving the details of what The Ministry was like for nearly a year, but being let off was a huge weight off of his shoulders. He had made himself literally sick with worry and spent nights before the trial vomiting and shaking.

Percy recounted being in the room next to where Rufus Scrimgeour was murdered. He recounted being tortured for information on his family that he, luckily, didn’t have. He recounted names of many Death Eaters who were working deep within The Ministry, which was a good way to gain credit in the court. He recounted that he wasn’t put under the Imperious Curse, because he was able to fight it. He recounted the first month that the Death Eaters had infiltrated The Ministry, when he was mostly too scared to do anything but what they said, and he led innocent Muggleborns to and from their ‘trials’. He recounted that part of him stayed so that he could keep a close watch on his family and would know that they were alive.  He recounted that most of the Death Eaters thought that he was weak, which was true at first, and Percy eventually took advantage of that and found strength. He recounted when he used his position as merely an escort to help Muggleborns to escape - it felt good when some of the Muggleborns and other non-purebloods that Percy had helped came forward during his trial. He recounted the week when his brother, Ron, had been seen and his family had to go into hiding, how Percy felt not seeing his father at work and not knowing the fate of his family on file anymore. He recounted going into hiding himself, shortly after that, when Yaxley became suspicious of him as well.

It was the first time that Percy had talked about any of it.

Percy had been afraid that he and his father were never going to talk about Percy’s harsh departure. Arthur Weasley knew that his son was not a bad person and did not mean the harm that he caused the family. He showed that by standing up fiercely for Percy at his trial. The trail covered any doubt that Percy had about whether or not his father still loved him.

Despite winning his trail, it haunted him that night - the people that he did not help his first month at The Ministry. Percy knew that he was responsible for aiding in the deaths of several people. Their faces haunted him, the terrified looks on the faces.

He confided to an empty room in his flat those thoughts. He woke himself up screaming again that night and knew that he would have to buy himself a sleeping potion if he wanted a decent night of sleep ever again.

 

V

“The nightmares are better.” Percy said quietly.

“Yeah?” Oliver replied.

“Much better.” Percy said with a sigh of relief.

Oliver gave a smile. He scooted in closer to Percy where they were seated on the couch, placing his hand on Percy’s shoulder and massaging it gently with his thumb. They leaned into each other for a few silent beats, before Oliver moved to take a sip of his tea. Percy had bothered to make it after all.

“Sorry I haven’t been around.” Oliver said after that.

 “No – I understand. You have a career. People need something to get their minds off of what’s happened. Quidditch being back in session gives people a sense of things getting back to normal.” Percy said. “And I know I wasn’t easy to deal with. It must have been exhausting.”

Oliver leaned over and kissed Percy on the cheek. “You’re always exhausting.” Oliver murmured against Percy’s ear.

“Oh be quiet.” Percy replied, flushing lightly and fighting off a smile.

They sat on the couch together for a long afternoon, Oliver discussing the training and the games that had played over the last few weeks. Percy talked about how his father had secured a job at The Ministry for him in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. They didn’t talk about the fact that Oliver left Percy during the weeks leading up to Percy’s trial, when Percy really needed him. They didn’t talk about the fact that Percy had become addicted to sleeping potions over the course of time that Oliver had been gone. Still, when they were silent, it was close to comfortable.

When night fell, it was implied that Oliver was staying. They lied in bed together and didn’t touch or kiss. After Oliver fell asleep, Percy took his sleeping potion.


End file.
